


For Forever

by erubescence



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: AU where Connor isn't dead??, Alive Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anxiety, Bisexual Evan Hansen, Confusion, Cussing, Depression, Embarrassment, Evan Hansen & Jared Kleinman Friendship, Eventual Trebros, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lots of Angst, M/M, Shock, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow friendship, Strangers to Friends, Stuttering, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide/Attempted Suicide, Tags Are Hard, Treebros, cast signed by connor because of course, i'm not crying you're crying, maybe some cute stuff, slow, the soundtrack makes me sad, yes lines are used from the book and musical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-05 07:09:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20484884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erubescence/pseuds/erubescence
Summary: What if Connor really was there when Evan fell out of the tree? What if that was the day that they had met, rather than the other day, over the letter about Zoe?





	1. The Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters or overall ideas written about in this story. All I own is the plot.
> 
> Hey guys, this is my first published fanfic. Um. I do write a lot, but I've never made one public. Well anyway. I'll be putting the word count for each chapter in the end notes, just in case anyone's curious. 
> 
> Oh, and there may be parts of the script/songs added throughout

The tears aren’t stopping. He doesn’t know why they aren’t stopping. It’s making it hard to see. The sunlight is blurred into streaks of brightness, and the tree’s branches are starting to give way beneath him. But that doesn’t matter. Just holding his breath, letting the tears fall down, down, to the ground that’s far below. 

One foot after the other. He’s almost at the top. Can almost feel the sun on his cheeks. Pauses. Wipes at his face, staring out across the treetops. He’s so high up. But the tree is taller yet. He climbs more. 

Higher and higher, one branch, then to another. Now the branches are sparse, and the sun’s warmth washes over him. And it feels so good. _ So _ good. He almost forgets why he’s there, almost even smiles. Then there’s the crack, so soft he can barely hear it. 

It’s louder. The branch is thin, too thin to support his weight. It snaps, and suddenly he has nothing to hold on to. The branch is falling, and he’s falling. And the sun is no longer on his face, and he remembers what he was going to do, but no, this isn’t right. It doesn’t feel right, he wasn’t supposed to just _ fall _. 

But maybe. Maybe it’ll work. He closes his eyes, and he’s no longer crying. Lets out his breath and listens to the sound of air rushing past him. There’s a faint cry, a yell, almost. It isn’t him. He isn’t screaming. 

And then he’s on the ground. Can’t feel his arm, can’t seem to breathe. His ears are ringing, and it almost sounds as if someone’s running towards him. That can’t be right. There was no one else in the park, let alone by his tree. But then he opens his eyes and sees an unfamiliar face with impossibly long hair and dark, maybe blue? eyes. 

Laying there, on the ground, not breathing, not understanding why, _ how, _ he’s still alive. The sunlight is dappled on the grass, a green-gold from the leaves. And the face is still there, and it’s attached to a pair of arms that grab him and pull him up. The hollow ringing is overpowering. He sways, and the other boy says something, but he can’t hear. He’s tugged along, beneath the trees, across the field, back to the street where a dusty-looking car is parked. 

He’s pushed into the passenger side and the door slams shut after him. Sitting there, staring out the window, as the engine starts and the car begins to move. 

The boy is saying something, but his voice is garbled and sounds as if it’s going through water. He doesn’t reply, just stares out the window until the car stops again. They’re at a hospital, and it feels familiar. He’s left alone in the car for what feels like both seconds and years, but then the boy is back.

Suddenly, they’re inside, and he is sitting on a table, and there’s his mom, and the boy disappeared. Wait. Mom? Still wearing her scrubs, her eyes are wide and red.

“Evan! Oh, my god! Evan!” She hugs him, careful of his arm. She’s crying, and he knows she knows, but then she says, “I was told you fell, you were climbing with a friend, and- and you fell!” 

And he wants to tell her the truth, wishes he could tell her, but then she has to go, has to get back to work, and he doesn’t say anything. He just sits there, watching her leave.

***

Leaving the hospital, Evan looks down at his arm. In the cast. He doesn’t know how to feel, whether he is sad or angry, or even happy that his plan had failed. He just feels a sort of numbness that isn’t going away. At least the ringing in his ears has gone. One of the doctors who treated him had said he was _ ‘in shock,’ _ and that it could go on for several weeks. 

Evan doesn’t even really remember what had happened in the thirty minutes between landing on the ground and appearing in the hospital. There were little snippets of memory, of a tall boy who seemed both familiar and unfamiliar, of a car with dusty tinted windows, of trees and buildings flashing by. His thoughts go back to the boy. Someone he didn’t exactly recognize, someone who came to get him even though he didn’t need to. He doesn’t know how to react to that. Why would a stranger help him?

He decides to walk home rather than take the bus. It is warm outside, and the sun is still out. The bus would be crowded, and he doesn’t want people to stare at him because of the cast. Or because his hair is a mess, and his skin is bruised, and that there are grass stains on his clothes. So he walks. 

It is dark by the time he gets home, and he’s exhausted. His mind keeps going in circles. Why did the boy help him? Why was he at the park, when no one else was there? Who was he? Did he know Evan? Was he going to see him again?

He needs to thank him. It would be the polite thing to do. And the right thing. But he doesn’t know how to. What would he say? Thanks for not letting me die? Did he even know what Evan was planning on doing? 

At least there are still a couple of days before the first day of school. He wouldn’t have to think about talking to the boy for a while. But even so, Evan falls asleep with those questions on his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WC: 947
> 
> Oh and also, I'll try to update when I can, but due to my lack of free time, I'm not sure when that'll be. That's about it. Thanks for reading! :)


	2. First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a beta for this, so any mistakes you find are mine. Please let me know if something doesn't make sense (grammar, punctuation, or plain plot-wise).

“‘Dear Evan Hansen: Today is going to be an amazing day, and here’s why…’” Evan trails off, staring blankly at the screen of his laptop. Before he can continue from where he left off, his mom is knocking on his door. 

“Evan, getting ready for school?” she calls from the hallway. He’s too late in responding. She comes in. He quickly closes his laptop and pushes it off of his lap. 

“Oh, good. You’re up.” She smiles at him, before going over to his window and pushing open the curtains. “It’s sunny outside today. You should leave the curtains open, let the sunlight in. Brighten this room up a bit.”

She looks over at his laptop. “Have you been writing those letters Dr. Sherman wants you to do? The pep talks? You really have to keep up with those, Evan.” 

“Um. Yes. I’ve started one. Maybe I’ll finish it at school, maybe,” Evan says quietly, then gets up. “I’ll… I’ll get ready now.” 

“Okay, okay. Just wanted to make sure. Those letters are important, honey. To help you build your  _ confidence, _ ” his mom says, bringing up one of her hands in a fist as if to show how he should be feeling. He doesn’t respond. She leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Sighing, her hand makes its way back to the brass knob, before falling off again. 

When Evan finally heads down to the kitchen, his mom is at the table, checking her emails on her phone. Obviously frustrated, she stands up and sees him standing there. She instantly says, “Shit, I’m sorry Evan, but I have to get to work right now. There’s a bagel on the counter for you. You’ll be fine walking to school today?”

He nods, watching as she hurries over to the door. Before she leaves, she turns back to him and says, “Oh, I know. Why don’t you go around today and ask the other kids to sign your cast? There’s a Sharpie on the table.”

“Maybe.”

“I’m proud of you already,” she says with a half-smile that doesn’t do a good job in masking the worry in her eyes. She really leaves then, going out the door and to the car. Deciding it would be best to go as well since it was a twenty-minute walk to school, and the little clock on the stove read  _ 7:10 _ , Evan grabs the bagel and, after a moment’s hesitation, the Sharpie as well. 

***

At first, school starts off normally. Alana Beck talks to him, talking about her summer and asking him about his. And not listening to what he’s saying, but that’s okay because he’s used to it, but still it hurts just a little bit. Jared Kleinman comes over and makes some crude remark about how Evan broke his arm, and when Evan tells him  _ no, _ he was  _ not _ jerking off to pictures of Zoe Murphy--although, he did have some interest in her, but that was beside the point--but rather had  _ fallen _ from a  _ tree _ , he isn’t really listening. 

Right as Jared turns to leave, Evan asks, “Do you want to sign my cast?” because he just remembered what his mom had wanted him to do, and he decides he should have at least  _ one _ signature before the day ended. 

But Jared scoffs and once again is about to leave when someone pushes past them. Jared calls out, “Hey, Connor! Love the new hair length. Very school-shooter chic.”

That someone turns around and Evan can only stare. That was the same guy who found him the day he… fell from the tree, the same guy who brought him to the hospital against Evan’s wishes. The same guy who. Saved him? 

Connor. Murphy. Brother of Zoe Murphy. How did he not recognize him? The doctor said he was in shock, maybe that was why? 

Snapping back into the present, Evan only hears Jared say, “You’re such a freak,” before almost scurrying away. And Evan laughs, awkwardly, nervously, because suddenly he’s in the nearly empty hallway with Connor Murphy, someone who he honestly didn’t think had it in him to care enough to go out of their way to take them to the hospital.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” he spits out, and Evan instantly stops laughing. Shuts his mouth, zips it up, throws away the key and all that stupid shit. 

“W-what?”

“Stop fucking laughing at me! What, you think I’m a freak? Like your friend said? I’m not the freak. You’re the fucking freak!” At that, he stomps past Evan, shoving him aside so that he almost falls to the floor. But then he catches himself and just stands there and watches as Connor walks away. 

So maybe thanking him for taking him to the hospital will have to come later. 

Evan must’ve been standing there for a while, just standing and staring down the hallway, because now Zoe’s standing in front of him. Zoe Murphy, in her cuffed jeans and purple bookbag. 

“Hey, are you all right?” she asks, and when he nods, she continues with, “I’m sorry about my brother. He’s a psychopath.”

Evan doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just says, “Yeah- no! We were just messing around.”

Zoe hums, obviously not believing him. But then she says, “Evan, right?” and all he does is make the already extremely awkward situation much more awkward by echoing her several times and stumbling over his words. Like always. 

“I’m- I’m sorry,” he says with a sigh, but he’s quiet and he doesn’t think she’s heard him. 

“Well. I’ll see you around,” she tells him, but she says it as a fact rather than anything else. And then she leaves, and Evan is left standing alone, staring down the hallway. Again.

***

It’s the end of the school day, and Evan is in the computer lab, typing out the rest of his letter. At long last, he finally figured out what to say after the “today is going to be an amazing day, and here’s why” part. 

He looks up when the door bangs open, and a seeming disgruntled Connor walks into the room. And then looks back down at the computer when he sees Connor scanning the tables. Evan is the only other person there, and he doesn’t want to draw any unwanted attention his way. Doesn’t want a repeat of what happened earlier. 

Doesn’t even know why it happened. Connor must not have recognized Evan from the other day, and honestly, Evan is fine with it. More than fine, he doesn’t want to have to bring it up with anyone, let alone Connor Murphy. 

His phone is buzzing, and it’s his mom telling him she won’t be home until late; she has work and then classes right after. He texts back something quick, and she sends him an  _ “I love you so much.” _ It isn’t completely random for her to do that, but it does feel a bit strange to be receiving that sort of text when he’s at school. 

When he looks up, Connor is no longer standing by the door. Evan even thinks he’s gone until there’s a loud voice directly behind him. 

“_‘Dear Evan Hansen.’_” It’s Connor, and he’s reading what Evan had typed out on the computer. “_‘Today’s gonna be an amazing day, and here’s why.’_” 

Evan cringes and shrinks down in the chair, his face heating up. And is completely and utterly shocked when Connor begins to laugh. An almost genuine laugh. But Connor’s eyes go further. He reads the rest of what Evan wrote. 

“‘Because there’s Zoe?’ Is this about my sister? What is this creepy, perverted shit you wrote about?” Evan stands up, facing him. That was probably a bad idea. Now Connor is looming over him, his eyes are cold and expression is withdrawn. Any traces of his laughing, something Evan still couldn’t believe he had heard, is gone.

“Wh-what?” Evan doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to explain it. The words aren’t coming out, and he’s frozen, cowering even. 

“You wrote this, knowing I’d see it and freak out.”

“Why- why would I do that?”

“So then you’d tell everyone I’m crazy.”

“N-no! No, no, that’s not what this is!”

For the longest ten seconds of his life, Evan feels like Connor is going to punch him or push him to the ground, or at the very least shout a  _ “Fuck you!” _ and storm away. But then Connor closes his eyes shut, hard, and when he opens them again, says, “Then tell me. What is it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WC: 1,431
> 
> Okay. So. Pretty much all of this chapter (except for the end) was heavily based on the book/musical. Some lines were even taken from both. But soon there'll be less and less as this takes an obviously different path from either. So. Just wanted to make that clear.
> 
> Anyway, all feedback is greatly appreciated! :)


	3. Conversation at Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Thanks for reading as always!

“I- I.” Evan can’t believe that he’s going to do this. Going to tell  _ Connor Murphy _ about his letters, the letters his therapist claimed would make him better. Connor Murphy, who may or may not have brought Evan to the hospital on that specific day--Evan is starting to doubt his remembrance of what had really happened. But what’s the alternative? Let him go on to tell someone else, such as Zoe? No. No, he can’t do that. And so he says, “I have a therapist.”

To which Connor says, “How the fuck does that relate to you writing creepy sex letters about my sister?”

Evan flushes, about to insist  _ no, they are _ not _ ‘sex letters,’ _ but decides it’s pointless. Almost but not quite panicking, he continues with, “And my therapist told me that every day, I should write a letter explaining how it’s going to be a good day, and it’s terrible, I know, and it led me to write  _ this, _ and  _ you _ ended up reading it, and that’s not what was supposed to happen, they’re supposed to be private, but obviously that’s not how it turned out. And so now I have a letter that definitely doesn’t sound the way I meant for it to sound--I didn’t want for it to be all creepy, and I’m sorry you had to see this, sorry about everything.”

Now his hands are sweaty, or at least they’re about to be since that’s all he can think about, and so he sits down. Trying to run away from Connor’s stare, his odd expression, without really running at all. 

“Fine.” Evan doesn’t think he heard properly. 

“What- what do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t give a shit about what you decide to do with your life and those pathetic little letters. It’s none of my business, anyway.” Connor turns away. 

Before he can leave, Evan calls out, “I’m- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He presses  _ ‘print’ _ and stands up, turning off the computer. 

“Well. That much is fucking obvious,” Connor mutters and with that, he leaves. Not long after, Evan takes his printed letter and leaves as well. 

***

Several days pass, and suddenly it’s the second week of school. Well. Technically, only the third day, since school had started on the Thursday of the previous week, and now it’s Monday. The first half of the day goes by quickly, quietly, even. Evan isn’t called on to speak, and he had enough fulfilling social interaction when Alana waved at him and he waved back, and when Jared who was for some reason standing next to him swatted his hand down. 

Then it’s lunch. The past two days, Evan had sat in a corner, by himself, just as he was used to. But today, today there are people sitting in his corner, smiling, laughing, talking, and he turns away instantly. Heads over to one of those six-person tables along the back wall where someone’s already sitting, but if Evan were to just sit on the far end of it, maybe they wouldn’t notice. He realizes that the other person is Connor, and almost turns around right then. But Connor hadn’t said anything about leaving him alone, and anyway, Evan has no plans on talking to him. 

Especially since he has somehow convinced himself that it wasn’t Connor who brought him to the hospital. It was merely a look-alike, or maybe no one at all. Maybe Evan was just hallucinating the whole thing. Well. That wasn’t true, because he clearly remembers the dusty car that smelled like smoke and seemed like it hadn’t been used for a long time. But none of that mattered, anyway, because Evan has decided it wasn’t Connor.

That is until Evan sits down and Connor looks up. His glare doesn’t contain the venom Evan had expected, and he’s surprised when Connor nods to his arm in the cast and says, “It’s been a while since you... fell from that tree in that park. And you still don’t have any signatures.” 

Nope. No. That can’t be right. How did Connor know that he fell from a tree? And that’s what led him to break his arm? The only people he had really told about it was Alana and Jared, and he doubted either of them would be going around telling people about what had happened to him. Unless. He  _ was _ the person? But no. That couldn’t be right either. But maybe it was?

What comes out of his mouth is, “Yeah, I know,” with a half-shrug to add to the indifference. But inside, his mind is going in circles again. Was it actually Connor who had rescued him? It had seemed to make sense before, but that was only because he was half-certain of it. Now, though, Evan is almost positive. So should he thank him? 

“I’ll sign it,” Connor says with a shrug of his own. “Do you have a Sharpie?”

And, of course, Evan does. He still has the one from the first day of school. Left at the bottom of his bookbag, forgotten. He automatically hands it to Connor, who bites off the cap and gestures for Evan to move closer. Which he does. Then, Connor’s writing on his cast, in big, bold letters:  _ “ _ ** _CONNOR_ ** _ ” _ and is handing the Sharpie back to Evan. 

“Oh. Thank you.” 

“Now we can both pretend we have friends.”

Well. Not the right time to thank him. It just doesn’t feel… good. If that even makes sense. It’s not the right moment. And so all he says is, “Good point,” with a hesitant nod.

At that, Connor stands up, leaving the cafeteria. Evan watches him retreat, unsure of what exactly just happened.  _ ‘Now we can both pretend we have friends.’  _ What. Was. That. Was that Connor offering his friendship to Evan or just one of those stupid little remarks? Evan must be reading too deeply into it, and he sighs, staring at his lunch tray with a measly cheese sandwich and a tiny carton of 2% milk. 

***

The next day, Evan walks into the cafeteria to see another group of people sitting in his corner. After a moment’s hesitation, he turns to where he and Connor had sat yesterday. Connor is already there, head down and earbuds in, but aside from that, the table is empty. 

So, Evan goes over there again and sets down his bag. Connor looks up, a flicker of recognition passing behind his eyes before he puts his head down again. But Evan who, admittedly, is watching him, sees him take out his earbuds and tuck them into his pocket. He also notices that Connor doesn’t have anything to eat, and after a second, slides the plate with a burger on it down towards him. 

Connor looks back up and then down at the burger. He has shock written all over his face, but Evan just shrugs, as if to say,  _ ‘I’m not hungry,’ _ which is true, he isn’t. Hasn’t had much of an appetite for years now. But it’s okay. Because Connor takes the burger and almost, maybe gives Evan a smile. Or maybe the burger just tastes  _ that _ good. 

Who knows. Connor must’ve actually been hungry--why didn’t he have any food, then? School lunch is free--since the plate is empty not two minutes later. 

“Thank you.” And that’s a real smile right there. A genuine smile. It’s small. But it’s warm, and Evan looks down at the bag of baby carrots on his tray because suddenly he can’t speak. 

“Y-you’re- you’re wel-welcome,” he manages to stutter out, and with shaking hands opens the bag and takes out a carrot, biting the end of it. It’s disgusting, and he already isn’t hungry, but he needs something to do with his hands and so he keeps eating them. 

When lunch ends, Evan hurries to stand up, packing up the math homework he was working on. Connor stands as well and gives Evan the slightest nod before walking off, swallowed by the crowd of students headed to class. 

This is the second time Connor has been civil with Evan since the disaster that happened in the computer lab. It makes sense, though, why Connor had freaked out, but Evan still gets nervous when he sees Connor. Not knowing if he might bring it up or freak out again. But, and this is what Evan has begun to think every time he sees Connor, he  _ was _ the person who took him to the hospital, and he really didn’t have to do it. And he still doesn’t know why he did that, and that thought has worn a groove in his mind.  _ Why? _

***

Every day, for the next few days, Evan sits at the same table as Connor. They don’t talk, necessarily, but just sit there. Evan tends to push the main part of the meal, pizza, chicken, pasta, over to Connor and eats the sides himself, and Connor doesn’t object. 

Connor reads, apparently, because every single day he has a book out and is reading while Evan does his homework. There are familiar titles like  _ The Catcher in the Rye _ and  _ Macbeth, _ and unfamiliar ones like  _ The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.  _ And it’s interesting because he never struck Evan as the type of person to read. 

But who knows. People aren’t always what they seem. 

On the eighth day of school, Jared walks up to Evan as he stands in the lunchline. 

“So. I’ve seen you sitting with the school shooter,” Jared says loudly, pointing his thumb at Connor, sitting alone at their table.  _ Their _ table. Since when has Evan been referring to it like that? 

“Don’t call him that,” Evan says instantly, before looking down, his neck and ears flushed. He wants to apologize for snapping. But doesn’t. 

“Woah there, jumping to his defense now, are you?” Jared’s laugh is loud as he raises his hands in a joking defensive position, but Evan ignores him, walking down the line with his tray in his hands. Jared follows, still laughing, trailing after Evan as he goes to sit down at the table with Connor. They no longer sit on either end, but rather a little closer to the center. Not exactly across from each other, but not so far apart either. 

When Jared sits down next to Evan, plunking his tray down on the table, Connor looks up from his book. He has a wary expression on his face, but apparently decides it doesn’t matter, for he looks back down. Jared strikes up a conversation, talking about all the  _ ‘hot chicks’  _ he saw at the gym the other day. 

“...and she was  _ running _ on the  _ treadmill,  _ and she was  _ bouncing _ , you know, like  _ every _ where,” he says, and Evan sighs. “She had the longest blonde hair, it reached all the way down to her ass--what are you doing?”

Evan had just pushed his tray over to Connor. It holds a meatloaf-looking thing which makes Evan’s stomach flip just to look at. He’s perfectly content with the apple and chips the lunch lady also provided. But forgot Jared doesn’t know that he has been doing this every day. 

“Oh, I see, you’re sharing  _ lunches _ now,” Jared says slowly, emphatically. His eyes are comically wide, and he has a growing grin on his face. “Well then. What adorable little lovebirds you are.”

“Wh-what?” Evan says, not knowing how to respond. He can feel his face flushing.

“Fuck off, Kleinman,” Connor snaps, pushing the tray with the meatloaf back at Evan. “No one asked for you to come and sit here.”

Jared just laughs. 

Evan pushes his tray back to Connor. “Take it. I’m- I’m not going to eat it, and I-I don’t want it going to waste. A-and Jared? Shut up.” 

Jared, who seems a bit taken aback by this, for once doesn’t say anything. Evan glances at Connor, who is staring at him. But then goes to eat the meatloaf while reading his book, and everything is good. For once, Evan feels accomplished. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WC: 2004


	4. Friends, Perhaps?

“Can I. Um. Can I have your phone number?” Evan doesn’t know where this sudden burst of courage came from. One second, he and Connor were sitting together at lunch, now fully across from each other. Connor had been reading his book, and Evan had been typing out one of those letters to himself. Then, Evan was looking up and blurting out the question. 

He doesn’t even know if they’re friends. Sure, they sit across from each other every lunch period, and sure, they tolerate each other’s silence, and  _ sure _ , they even occasionally have a conversation. But does that make them friends? Or at least close enough to exchange phone numbers?

Connor looks just as surprised as Evan feels. His hair is covering half of his face, and so he tucks it behind one ear. Pierced, Evan notices. A little black stud. Matches his chipped black nail polish. He nods. And pulls out a notebook and a pen, flips to a page in the back, writes on it, rips it out, and hands it to Evan. 

“My number,” Connor says as if confirming what Evan thought. He still doesn’t quite understand what just happened, what he had just asked for. But suddenly he has a slip of paper with someone’s number on it and the only thing he can do is pull out his phone, slowly typing the digits in.  _ Connor Murphy _ is the name. He has a weird urge to take a picture for the profile, a weird, sudden urge. 

“Um. Thanks?” Evan’s ears are turning red, and so he turns back to his letter. His therapist, Dr. Sherman, claimed that his letters weren’t sounding as…  _ emotionless, _ as of late. He’s been putting more effort into them, and has apparently seemed  _ happier _ , or at least more  _ positive _ in them. 

_ Dear Evan Hansen, _

_ Today is going to be an amazing day, and here’s why. Because today, you were called on in class and didn’t even flinch--in fact, when you responded, you barely stuttered. Today, Jared Kleinman drove you to school, and while he teased you a little bit, it seemed more friendly than usual. Today, Zoe Murphy smiled at you in the hallway. On her way to her band class, not that you were keeping track of her schedule or anything.  _

_ Today you asked for Connor Murphy’s number, and he gave it to you. Are you friends now? Maybe you’ll find out. Soon, hopefully. But seriously, now you have more than five contacts on your phone. And isn’t that amazing? _

He thinks for a second before deleting the last part, signing off with  _ “Sincerely, Me.” _

* * *

**Hi. This is Evan Hansen.**

**hey. wassup? **

* * *

Somehow, slowly, their conversations progress. Evan isn’t quite sure what’s happening, but it seems as if he’s become friends with Connor. And suddenly, Evan can’t put down his phone. They’re having actual, full-blown conversations, and Evan can’t believe it. Granted, it’s only been one night, but it’s been a  _ whole _ night in which he’s stayed up. Talking. Texting. 

Something he’s never done before.

And then it’s the weekend, Saturday, and Evan is laughing as he texts Connor.  _ Laughing _ . Connor tells a joke about night owls, and it was a terrible joke, and Evan is laughing hys _ teri _ cally. Then he’s staring at his phone, shocked because Connor had just sent  _ “ _ ** _u busy today??_ ** _ ” _

No. Evan is  _ not _ busy today. He doesn’t know if he should admit that or not.  _ Is  _ he  _ really _ not busy? Maybe he is? But there’s nothing. His mom is in her bedroom, sleeping before her classes later. He surprisingly hadn’t gotten homework for the weekend. There are no groceries that need to be restocked. There’s nothing. He’s not busy. 

**No. I’m not busy.**

**Why?**

**wanna hang out?**

Of course. Evan is not busy, and Connor wants to hang out. And Evan does want to meet up with him, to hang out with him. But what if their ‘friendship’--or whatever it may be called--only works online? What if they realize they hate each other when trying to have an actual in-person conversation?

His fingers don’t pay attention to his circling thoughts. Typing out  _ “ _ **Yeah** ** _._ ** _ ”  _ Um.  _ “ _ **Where do you want to go?** ”

And Connor says, “ **how abt we meet up outside school & go from there** ,” which of course is a great idea because Evan can walk to the school building and it’s right there and they both know the place, and where it is, and it’s safe and close and near. 

“ **Great.** ” 

* * *

He’s nervous. Maybe unreasonably so. Maybe not. Hands are sweating, and the more he thinks about it, the sweatier they become. And he’s thirsty all of a sudden and wishes, wonders why he didn’t think to bring a bottle of water. Or something. 

Then there’s Connor, clad in blacks and grays, walking towards him. Without the car that Evan thought he had. Walking, hands in his pockets, slouched in an unassuming position. Earbuds in. Hood up. Almost a scowl on his face. He looks up, making eye contact with Evan. Evan, wearing a navy blue coat that just barely fits over the cast. Only the “ ** _CO_ ** ” is visible; the rest is hidden. Evan self-consciously tugs at his jacket’s sleeve, trying to pull it down further. 

But why is he suddenly so self-conscious? It was Connor who wrote on his cast, anyway. It doesn’t matter. He takes a deep breath and walks to Connor. He smiles, and an almost-maybe smile is offered in return. 

“H-hi,” Evan stammers, raising his sweaty hand in a half-wave. Connor waves back. 

“Hey,” he says when he’s standing beside Evan, pulling out his earbuds and taking off his hood. Tucking his hair behind one ear. “Wanna go to the park?”

The  _ park _ . A place Evan hasn’t been since  _ that _ day. He’s kind-of-not-really been avoiding it. He just hasn’t been ready to face what almost happened there. But since Connor is going to be there… He’s going to have to face it now, anyway. 

When they get there--because they had walked, it took about thirty minutes. Thirty quiet, but not awkward-quiet, minutes--the park is empty. Some of the leaves are already changing colors, even though it’s only the middle of September. Evan sighs. From here, he can almost see the tallest tree in the park. The tree which he climbed until he could feel the sun covering his entire body. 

The two of them walk beneath a grove of trees, far from the gum-speckled parking lot. 

“Ni-nice day,” Evan says,  _ offers _ would be a better way to describe it. And it’s awkward now because Connor just nods and looks up at the little patches of sky between the branches and leaves, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Here. Let’s sit.” They’ve walked through the park for about ten minutes, reaching a spot Evan has never been to before. A little bubbling creek winds between the trees that grow closer together here than in the other parts. It seems almost... like the wilderness. The  _ real _ wilderness. 

And it’s nice. Connor sits down beside a tree and gestures for Evan to sit down next to him. They both lean against the tree and Evan looks down at the stream. Trickling by, not a care in the world. Exactly how he feels right now. Because for some reason, right now, he’s content. 

They sit like that for hours, sitting and talking, but not really talking. Just enjoying each other’s company. Connor laughs, seeming completely out of the blue.

“W-what?” And Evan’s nervous. Did he say something stupid? Was this all just one huge, terrible joke?

“Nothing,” Connor says in between breaths. “It’s. It’s just that, I’ve never really had someone to talk to. A friend, I guess. I’ve never really had something like this.”

Evan doesn’t know what to say for a moment. He’s surprised. Because he feels the same way. And so, he laughs. Hard. And Connor joins in, and the two of them are leaning against each other, shaking, gasping for air. Evan’s ribs hurt and his face is red and he can barely breathe, but he doesn’t care. 

“Me too,” he says, and looks over at Connor, who’s tucked his hair behind his ear. Who has a grin on his face. A real, wide grin. And Evan’s face flushes, but not from the exertion, and his breath whooshes out of him once more.

Connor’s face becomes serious as he looks down at his hand. Picks up a pebble, before dropping it. “You listen to me. Treat me like I’m human. Thank you.”

“Of- of course!”

He doesn’t even know why he’s being thanked for this. Of course Evan would listen. No matter who the person was. It could be Jared. It could be his dad’s new  _ wife _ , for all he cared. Well. Maybe not her. But anyway, on a different note, Evan knows now is the right time. Before Connor decides it’s time to leave, or change the subject, or anything else. 

“And. And thank you. For, um, helping me. That day.” He’s not stuttering, sure, but he can barely manage to force out the words. Short sentences.  _ Breathe. _ “Thank you for. For taking me to the hospital when I fell. From the tree.”

He pauses. Looks down at the dappled grass. At the wildflowers growing at the edge of the stream. At Connor’s hand, resting on the dirt between them, chipped black nail polish and scars on his fingers from who knows what. 

“I don’t think I would’ve been able to get up if I was alone,” he admits. With great difficulty. Forces a smile, blinks because he feel tears starting to form. “I- I would’ve just laid there.” Waiting. But for what? He can’t answer that. “Thank you for taking me to the hospital.”  _ For not asking questions _ . 

A weight lifts off Evan’s chest. He looks back up at Connor, who’s watching him closely. 

“A-anyway! I just wanted to say that. And thanks for listening to me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry about the suuuuper late update, school has been a real pain in the ass lately. I'll try to figure out a good posting schedule for this, but I'm not sure when that's going to happen. Thanks for sticking with me :)
> 
> WC: 1657


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